Countless Origins
by Nankotsu
Summary: Even eternity has a beginning. It is no different for Infinity. Read now those of you who would, the writings of the man who would one day cause the world to once again tremble with the sound of war drums.  Prologue to Infinity.
1. A Glimmer of Hope

Date: Sometime in May

Location: My Cell

I suppose I'm going to start this entry by stating that I am quite aware of the pointlessness of stating my time and location. I have not seen the sky since I was imprisoned here and there is no obvious way to keep track of the time. After a few what I assume to be days here though, I was able to figure out that the guards patrols take them around 4 hours to complete. Now my only way of keeping tracking time is by keeping track of those who keep me confined in this place, the irony of it is not lost on me.

Normally one would introduce himself when writing a letter such as this, but as I don't expect anyone to ever read this. These words I scratch out on this shred of toilet paper will likely go unread by all and never be known by any. Yet despite my knowledge of this, and even more my acceptance of it, I cannot resist this urge to write. It seems despite my captor's best efforts, a small bit of hope remains within me.

When I was first brought here the warden told me with a grin that by time I left this place, no one would know me or even remember my name. I must admit such thoughts do little to me; the Empire of Britannia has taken everything else from me it seems fitting that they should take my name as well.

Once again I am set up and indeed enabled with all the reasons in the world to let myself sink in the black abyss that is despair. I see other prisoners who have fallen into such a place. Their gazes are haunting to behold, they stare as if everything has become the same and show no expression to anything, not even the beatings from the guards gets any response of them. They are like the living dead, no hope for their future and no care to think of their past. Yet I cannot find myself to be like them any way. I have no logical reason for this, I simply feel that there is something more for me in this life and that I would regret it if I should simply allow myself to die here.

So I write, for what reason and purpose I know but perhaps one day you who are reading this will read and understand or learn something from these writing I have made.

After who knows what the future shall hold? The possibilities are infinite.


	2. What You Eat

Date: Still think its sometime in May.

Location: N/A

Prison food, truly something which does not earn its title, for this colorless disgusting slop of nutrients that I'm eating right now as I write, is most definitely not food by even my most liberal sense, it is merely substance I must eat in order to survive. This brings to mind a few old sayings, one that I feel is the most appropriate being, 'Hunger is the best seasoning,' One would be surprised what can consider good when pressed in certain extreme circumstances. I knew I had reached such a point when I started to eat my meal and realized two things, one that I still had my appetite after seeing it, and two that I could tell that the chef had thrown a bit of salt and pepper into to it and I was genuinely grateful for it. I have been confined here for so long that I am starting to forget what such meals as steak, bacon and eggs, and French toast taste or smell like. I see them in my mind, looking as delicious as anything I've ever seen in my life but the memories of the smells, the taste and feel of them in mouth as I chew and swallow, fades away like an shadow in the face of the rising sun. Now all foods tastes like the same camel vomit I am given each day to eat. The smell alone drove me to vomit the first time I set eyes on it.

Some would say that being driven to eat such food is robbing us of our humanity. I would argue against that, I say eating such disgusting food is proof that you still have a desire to live; despite the saying people are more than what they eat. What separates us from animals is more than just what we choose to eat, it's who we are, what we choose and our capacity to choose. Our desire to live to fulfill our purpose, fate, call it what you will we humans have something we live for, in the end are willing to die for. I find it strange though that I continue this struggle to live yet I can see no purpose to do so. I suppose if I must say so I live because I believe I'll find a new purpose. I do not feel a need for vengeance or to avenge, I do not seem to feel anything really, yet there is anticipation, for what I don't know but I feel as though something is coming and I can't wait to find out what it is. Though that is neither here nor there at the moment, what is here is the same sort of slop I eat every day, as I chew what hard parts there are, I looking from my cell across the inside of the prison. Hundreds of cells, each one holding some person, some are murders, some stole, others ran from the duties that were given them and list goes on. The guards walk around, along the walkways, silent save for when they beat a prisoner for acting out (whether he actually did or not). Taking another bite of my meal I wonder what the guards get to eat every day, and can't help but smirk. If I had to eat anything like this while keeping watch of prisoners, I would be quite pissed myself. Taking a drink of some lukewarm (but clean) water I set into the last bit of my meal.

"Bottoms Up,"


	3. Hanging with the Guards

Time: Based on the increased heat, I'd guess sometime in the beginning of summer.

Location: Under my bed. (It's cooler down here and also a different angle to stare at my room from)

It's hot, interminably hot, as I write this entry I'm spending half my time trying to make sure that I don't sweat on the paper. Toilet paper isn't known for being very water friendly and I'm fairly certain that the brand that they provide us here even more so, Scott's it is not.

The increased heat has also made the guards tempers a shorter, punishments are up 50% from last quarter (note: quarter here is a rather arbitrary term as I really have no idea of how many days it's been). I've suspected for a long time but find myself increasingly certain, the guards don't beat us to fulfill any sort of quota, they do it, because they have nothing better to do. This prison seems to be for prisoners that the Empire has decided to forget to about. I was not given a released date or even a word about the possibility of parole. We're not subjected to forced labor like some other prisons; it's as if we don't truly no longer exist in the world outside these walls, we only exist here and have only each other and the guards who watch over us.

The guards wear no name tags and refuse to tell us their names, such questions usually being answered by a beating session. After a few weeks here I took it upon myself to name the guards. One of the guards, the one who brings us our meals, I've named Cookie. The first time I called him Cookie, I was treated to an extra long than normal beating which left me napping on the floor of my cell for nearly two days. After about the third time Cookie relented, partly because I wouldn't stop and partly cause the idea caught on, and everyone in the cell block has started calling him Cookie. I've even heard the other guards start to refer to him as that. I count it a small victory for myself.

Besides Cookie there three other guards who regularly patrol the area, one of them is a large man fairly obese, he is the main I've pretty sir the guards don't eat the same food we do, no one could get fat on this stuff. Another one is Irish if I'm not mistaken as he has red curly hair that practically explodes off of his head. The last guard is the shortest one of the three and is highest ranked, an odd dichotomy I think, made rather amusing by the fact that he seems to suffer from a severe case of Little Person Syndrome, as he snaps at the others at any perceived attempt to undermine his authority. I eventually took to calling them Larry, Moe and Curly. As one could expect these three stooges didn't take well to their names and were quite thorough in letting me know this for several days afterward but after one has been beaten a certain number of times, you become a bit jaded to it. Not to say it doesn't hurt like hell but eventually one gets accustomed to certain levels of pain. One of the prisoners has apparently become so jaded that he has taken to taunting the guards, this taunting lead to said guard pulling a muscle after rearing his arm a bit too far back. The prisoner went without meals for a day or so but I'm fairly certain he has no regrets. It is and remains a unique dichotomy we have with our guards, I can only assume that wherever we are is not easily accessible as the guards never seem to leave that they are almost as much prisoners as we are. In the end they are our tormentors yet also our comrades in arms. A very interesting contrast of opinions and positions, life is nothing if not ironic.


	4. Change

Something is happening.

I don't have much time to write this, but we are being moved it seems. As I write this, the guards are moving down the walkways, opening cells and herding inmates out. What is happening I won……


	5. From Prison to Lab

Time: No clue

Location: Somewhere else, they got the same interior decorator though.

It seems the Empire of Brittannia has decided to put us to some use after all. There are many new faces in this new place we've been moved to. I haven't seen Cookie, Moe, Larry or Curly since we arrived here. Instead of them we have new guards, who while of a much better temperament avoid conversation with us completely. The food as also improved, being something that anyone would call food. I was beginning to forget what normal food tasted and smelled like. All in all our conditions all around have drastically improved, yet I do not feel any joy of it. If anything my sense of dread has deepened even more. There are many things I don't understand about these new circumstances. First among them is a mysterious bird shaped symbol I've noticed on some of the uniforms here. The atmosphere here is not of a prison, it's too clean here for a prison. The smell of disinfectant floats out from the areas outside this wing. The smell of cold science that has gotten itself a new batch of guinea pigs I fear. This makes one wonder which is better, a prisoner in a forgotten prison who is regularly abused and treated not much better than an animal, to a human test subject in a lab, who while enjoying much improved circumstance will likely be subjected to experiments far crueler than the most painful whip. I myself have to say I'm unsure if my station in life as improved at all. Time will tell I suppose, but I must admit I find myself curious as to what goes on here as well as an interesting word I've been hearing, Geass.

* * *

---Excerpt from the personal journal of Dr. Gregory Muller

Date: 10 June 2017 a.t.b.

Subject: New Batch of Subjects Arrived Today

My first batch of subjects arrived today. I must say that anticipation has me in quite the firm grip. When Prince Clovis and General Barckely first approached me to oversee this new project offshoot of the a personal project of the Emperor's. Though I was quite shocked when I got sight of the source for what General Barkerly has called, "Unique DNA pairs," Too think that C.C. would be found here after all this time. Goes to show the secrecy of the Geass Directorate as its obvious neither the prince nor General Barkerly are aware that their barking up an already well marked tree. But I am quite willing to give my full support to their endeavors. In the Directorate, C.C. and V.V. were treated like gods, and as such tests upon the two of them were nearly impossible to get approved, all research was done on the Geass itself and its nature to world of the C. I personally now have the unheard of opportunity to conduct extensive research on the Code itself and its effects on the human body. Tomorrow I shall begin some preliminary tests and interviews; I look forward to the results.


	6. The Interview

I've decided that there is no longer any point in trying to keep track of the time and location, as the location never changes and I have really no means to keep track of the time, well not at this time anyway.

After several of what I assume to be days. I was escorted to plain looking room with nothing in it but a table with a man sitting across from where I was. The guard left immediately leaving me with the man. The man held a file in his hands; he looked up at me for a moment then gestured to the chair across from him.

"Have a seat if you please,"

I sat down slowly across from him. For awhile neither of us said anything. I looked at him and he read the file in his hands without saying a word. Finally he put the file down.

"You're not quite what I had imagined after reading your file,"

"The world rarely works as we imagine it does," I answered simply.

He smiled, "How true,"

Silence again.

"My name is Doctor George Muller; I will be the one in charge of you and your cellmates for the foreseeable future,"

"A doctor," I said not able to hide my smirk.

"I get the feeling you're not here to give us our flu shots,"

Doctor Muller laughed, "No I'm afraid not, but I will tell you that thorough you and the others, much will be gained for the Empire,"

"You'll forgive me if I say that's of little consequence to one such as I,"

"Of course, I would expect such an answer," The doctor said.

We stared at each for a moment.

"Tell me doctor, if we are merely lab rats for you, why do you come to talk to me?"

"Your file intrigued me, I wanted to meet the man behind the paperwork, and I see a lot of potential in you,"

"I'm honored," I said, voice full of sarcasm.

The doctor merely smiled and tapped the file on the desk. A guard entered through the door, I slowly got to my feet knowing this 'meeting' was over.

"Thank you for your time today, Subject 4479," The doctor said.

"My pleasure," I said, thinking back to how long it had been since I had heard my own name. After that they simply returned me to my cell. I sit now with only my thoughts for company and I find myself wondering, 'What meaning is there in a name?' I have a name but is there really any meaning in what others call me? After all a name is just a group of letters arranged in a certain and its meaning is different as the culture that gives it. So then what is the point of a name and for that matter what makes one name better than another? Yet, on the other hand, a person's name is one of their most precious possessions; it gives them a sense of identity and at times comfort. It might inspire them with its meaning and history or foretell to them a warning of those who carried it and are infamous for it. It has been a long time since I have been called my name, and today I feel like putting to paper who I am.

My name is…………….. *paper torn here*

* * *

June 15 2017

Subject: My First Interviews

I held my first interviews today with my subjects and I must say I was quite disappointed. Almost all of them are your typical run of the mill prisoners, no imagination or interesting in anything besides themselves. There was one exception though a young man, he shows a great deal of intelligence and poise when he speaks and unlike the other prisoners his eyes show a glint of something more than animal cruelty, dare I say they show a hint of certainty. As if he knows something that gives him confidence that he will one day see beyond these walls. That is hardly likely though, one does not commit the crimes he was convicted of and ever expect to be freed, and yet when I look at him I myself wonder about that. Regardless about who he was outside of these walls, inside he is merely Subject 4479, nothing more nothing less. I also paid a visit to C.C. today, besides demanding pizza she declined to speak with me. I'll have the technicians get some tissue samples from her tonight. Tomorrow this experiment truly begins.


	7. Descend into Hell

It hurts.

Pain has began to wrack my body, I know not what sort of treatments have been done to me, but my skin seems to crack as if in the grips of terrible sun burn and my insides wrench. I am unable to intake any food right now as eating sends my stomach into severe convulsions. I haven't seen Muller sense our last meeting, but I have no doubt that he is there under the masks of those doctors as they do their work upon us.

I'm not but I think some of the others have already succumbed to the tests. I heard some of doctors talking about over virulence of the strain being higher than they thought.

I have to be careful as I write this; my skin has become so brittle that I bleed very easily at the slightest prick. I am grasping at straws it seems these days. I struggle to hold onto hope but there doesn't seem to be any hope. Not for me, not for anyone.

I'm very tired so I think will end this entry here for the day. I seem to have less and less energy these days perhaps I will write more after I rest.

Yes……….. some rest……….

* * *

July 15, 2017

Subject: Summary of the first level of Tests

We are nearing the end of the batch of testing. Of the 50 subjects I started with, 17 have died already. The frustration of this is compounded by the fact that not only am I unable to figure out why their bodies reacted so violently to C.C.'s cells, I can't even say for sure I know how the reaction will kill them. Some of them bleed out as if they are contracted Ebola, some went utterly mad and killed themselves, others seemed to just languish away as if consumed by apathy. Of those that remain, all are having severe reactions to the cells of varying degrees. On a personal note, while I had high hopes for Subject 4479, it seems he is fated to join those who perished before him. His physical health is rapidly deteriorating. It is quite the shame; he is one of the few who I feel could make use of the gifts that might gleaned from C.C.'s cells. I must make sure to ask Prince Clovis for more subjects soon. With each test, I can feel it getting closer, an understanding of the truth behind the code.


	8. A Faint Ray

Journal of Doctor George Muller

Date: July 20, 2017

5 more subjects have succumbed to the cells. I have been studying the corpses in a continued effort to learn more about the rejection process. While I do not have a full grasping on it yet I believe I may have found a way to keep those remaining alive. I plan to re-administer C.C.'s cells to the subjects; I have been introducing more samples to some of the patients and have had varying degrees of success. However in the case of Subject 4479 I believe a more radical approach is needed. His health has deteriorated to the point of near death, his consciousness appears to nearly be gone, he is not far off from a coma. To counteract this I plan to administer a more concentrated dosage as well as test the effects of slight conciseness transference. I have become to suspect that perhaps more than just the cells are needed to fully make use of the code. This experiment could open a whole new direction on our understanding of what the code is. In preparation of the procedure and to avoid C.C. attempting to make a contract with him, I am having her held in a high pressure tank where I will be able to control the levels of interaction. The procedure is scheduled for tomorrow. I am looking forward to the results.


	9. Liberate Tutamae Ex Inferis

Journal of Doctor George Muller

Date: July 31 2017

It is a disaster, a complete and total disaster. C.C. is gone, stolen from us from those confounded Eleven Terrorists. I do not know who was in charge of security here but I will have their head on stick before the week is out. If Prince Clovis doesn't have mine first, I suppose though I should back up and record the entire events.

The procedure began without any problem. Due to the nature of it both C.C. and 4479 were put into a cationic state. Once we had established proper connections between the two, we began the experiment. In the beginning all vital signs were good and the cells were reacting as expected, suddenly 4479's reading spiked and he began to go into cardiac arrest. We attempted to stabilize him when suddenly his vitals seemed to stop, in that time a horrendous noise seemed to fill the air, driving most of us our knees. Almost immediately after that, the Elevens burst in. I only small amounts of their accursed language but it sounded to me that they had no idea what they stole, they seemed to think it was some sort of container for gas, the fools, but now they are gone it is left to me to salvage this mess. General Bartley has already called out the army and gone after the terrorists I can only hope they find them. On 4479's condition, that remains to be seen, though for the moment he has stabilized. I can only hope he survives, with C.C. gone my supply of fresh cells will not last long if spread among all the others. He now the only viable candidate for this experiment, may he pull thorough this.

* * *

-A scrap of paper left in an abandoned Terrorist Hideout-

I'm not sure why I'm bothering to record this but the circumstances of it are so odd that I feel that it is important to leave some record of it in case it should come up again. Today my comrades and I attacked what we believe to be a Britannia Chemical Weapons Lab. From the very beginning something seemed off about the mission. The guards seemed to be almost in a daze when we came upon them as if there was a ton of noise in the air and they couldn't think straight because of it. As soon as we entered the building we felt as though we were being lead or guided through the halls. When we reached the room where this large tank like device was, the scientists around it were in a state of shock. We thought there might have some sort of chemical leak but now I'm not so sure. Even as we left I couldn't help but feel as though something was calling us back, begging us not to leave it behind. Now as we rush back toward our hideaway in the ghettos I hurriedly write this record. I don't know what happened in there but the memory of it still makes my skin crawl. Something else was in that room, and whatever it was, it needs to stay in there.


	10. Disjointed Thoughts

...

...

I know nothing.

I know everything.

My world is an ocean, everything is shifting, rising and falling, ever changing, nothing is known, yet I feel everything.

I am blind, deaf, mute and dumb yet I am not. I feel nothing yet it is not so, I feel. The wind on the face of young Chinese girl as she looks out the window and dreams of a world beyond what she can see. The light shining on the face of the boy as he lays bleeding in a ghetto as he regrets not being able to change anything.

Yet I do more than feel, I hear.

Screams of battle as men shoot and knightmares race thorough battle lines spreading death and destruction. Vows taken, vows broken, promises keep and promises not.

I smell the soot of smoke, the stench of filth, the fragrance of opulence. Yet it is a mess and I know not for sure what I smell.

I see lovers eyes as they are torn apart forever. Grim determination is the eyes of those who seek vengeance. I see a man defying the world and my heart races at the thrill of it.

I feel a hand in mine, it clasps it tightly silently begging me to never let go. My hand grips my sword as I rush my enemy. The prick of rose thorn stings my hand as I hand my beloved a bouquet of roses. I feel the ring on my finger given by the man I once hated and now loved.

Yet I do more than experience I know.

I am sitting in quiet contemplation, I carry a heavy burden but I have laid a lofty goal and I shall see it thorough.

I am standing before a crowd, I speak as they roar with approval, I have cast out my destiny and I will forge my own world with it

Yet it all grows ever fainter and more distant and I feel the pull of my own thoughts and my own will.

The world is an ocean of consciousness and mingling and interacting. Some call this god, how shallow those who say that are. From where I sit floating here, drawing my own thoughts together I form a raft and I look and perhaps I am the first to get a glimpse of God. If the world is the ocean, he is the sky, a mind beyond this sea of minds, here lost in the sea I feel the weight of his will upon me, threatening to destroy my very being. I try to gather my self and force myself to rise above the sea of the worlds thought, but as if responding to my attempts the sea itself surges against me along with the force from above. The force is too much and I sink beneath the waves, descending into the black depths of the sea of thoughts. I reach and try to reach for the sun, but like Icarus of old my wings have melted and I have no future now but to sink and disappear.

Darkness

Blackness

Silence

Sleep

...

...

* * *

Diary of Gergory Muller PHd

Subject 4479 has finally stabilized but he has yet to awaken. His body however is healing at an impressive rate with the unknown side affect that all pigmentation in his skin and hair is vanishing. I am unsure if this means that his body has excepted the code or not. Unfortunately I do not have enough data to properly expound on this. His apparent survival is the only good thing I can note of these days. Something has happened with the Princes attack of the Elevens ghetto in the Shinjuku district and with that everything has been thrown into complete turmoil. We're in the process of relocating our lab, to a more remote area in the mountains away from the chaos of the Tokyo, and chaos it is. I can not trust the reports I'm getting at the moment. I hope in a day or so to have a better idea what is going on.


	11. A New Set of Eyes

Time: Still unsure but I believe it is sometime in August

Location: Changed again it appears, no idea where.

I must say I have never felt has energized as I do right now. The world appears to me so different now, the colors deeper, the sounds more distinct and food richer in taste. That point is worth emphasizing if only because many things have improved for me as of late. Instead of a cell I am kept in a fully furnished room that actually has a small window and the food is actually food and not terrible at that. When I question Muller about it and he merely said that it for the next stage it was important for higher levels of health. I remain curious what he means but I confess I am enjoying myself too much right now to care much.

How very odd it is that a few weeks ago I was expecting my death, but I have no only survived but have thrived apparently. Despite a few odd affect such as the loss of my pigmentation I feel perfectly fine. Indeed Muller has remarked with some interest that my health should not be this good for one with no pigmentation. I have very little memory of the last few weeks, but I have been told that a last ditch effort to save my life was successful and now I am considered the best of hope of Dr Mullers project.

At the moment I care very little for all that, at the moment I am more excited about what I have heard from the some of the guards.

It is positively electrifying, not only is Prince Clovis dead, but has been assassinated in his own command ship and to continue it the man, who calls himself Zero showed up publicly to rescue the accused murder Suzaku Kururugi in front of the news and everyone else and did with such pomp and aplomb that every is rendered speechless from it. I am excited beyond all words by these developments. In these developments I see the beginnings of something great that will shake this earth. I look forward to see what happens next.

* * *

Diary of Doctor Gergory Muller

Date: August 15 2017

Subject 4479 appears to have completely recovered from the shock of his treatments. His health is all areas is completely normal save for the loss of his pigmentation. In that area I can only assume it has arisen from his bodies inability to fully accept the code, but only some level he does have the code in him.

Immortal? No, but I foresee he will carry a longevity beyond that of a normal human should his life not end in violence. Preliminary tests have had to cancel any plans to test his mortality, it has been determined that he is as mortal as any other man. The question then remains, what if anything has he gained from the code. Further testing will have to be done, for now though I am watching him.

In other news, one good things has arisen out of Prince Clovis' death. We have moved our location to the Narita mountains were it is more safer. I can only hope we will be able to continue our research in peace now.


	12. A Breath of Fresh Air

The last few days have rather interesting. They've consisted mostly of tests and more tests as Dr Muller struggles to understand what I have become. I myself have not bothered with it, I am still the same man I was before this incident, save perhaps with cosmetic differences. Though I must count the change a blessing for I have access to reading materials and news media I didn't before. Thorough these I follow the career of the one called Zero with great interest. Things are moving in Japan and Zero is building the momentum, and if Britannia is not careful, it will snowball and bury them eventually. Dr Muller is uninterested in Zero and thus isn't interested in discussing him and continues to remain tight lipped as well over what exactly the nature of his experiment on me was. The only think I've managed to learn was that was he gave a unique 'crack dose' of whatever it was that he was using originally. I suspect that there is more to it than that as that doesn't make any sense why something that was killing me would stop simply because he used more of it.

But enough of that, I shall relay here something interesting events which took place a few days ago. I was sitting in my room looking out the window and thinking about if I could take a walk and enjoy the air. I made up my mind to try though I didn't think anything would come of it. Since we changed our location I've allowed into the hallway around my room, but I normally never get very far. That day for some reason as I walked down the hall, I ran into no one directly and those I saw at a distance didn't seem to see me. I can only assume that I managed upon a 1 in a Million chance of this happening.

As I reached the door a guard sat at the desk, I thought he might try to stop me but he paid me no mind at all as I walked past. I've been locked up for quite a while so it's to be expected I suppose that a lowly doorman wouldn't know who I am. As I walked outside, the thought came to me that I could try to escape. I stopped and considered this for a long time. You who are reading this may wonder why I even had to think about it. It is true enough that a few weeks ago I would have jumped at the chance but now, I stood and pondered it for the moment. When I had left my original thought had merely been to take a walk, a very odd turn of events, somehow without my knowledge I no longer felt like prisoner. In some vague way, the whole world seems like my home now, a feeling I can describe only has 'peace' flows thorough me. I feel like a bird in the sky, where ever I wish to go, my wings will take me and there is nothing that can stop me. So now I walk through the streets of this town, seeing people go about their daily business oblivious to the things that happen beneath society's surface. Truthfully I can't blame I myself was mostly ignorant of the same, until recently. Yet I look back at the building I left, there it is in plain sight. People wish to be the truth becomes their truth no matter how ugly the real truth might be.

As I walk I see a man standing in front of shop, the bags in his hands filled with groceries. He was staring into a store front intently, with the age old battle of whether or not to buy something on his face. As I approach I look into the store front, it is clean and presentable appears to be an old style toy store.

"Looking for something for your child?" I asked.

The man smiled with slight embarrassment, "Yes, but she's hardly a child anymore, she's in high school now but her birthday is coming up but I wonder if she would care for one of these things,"

I shrugged; I was not skilled in these sorts of things. I hadn't been before my imprisonment and time or prison had not improved me in that area.

"I suppose that any gift might be enjoyed if given from a loved one," I said.

The man smiled, "True enough but I must still give my best effort,"

I nodded and turned to go. As I did so my hand brushed his, I straightened and suddenly images and vision seemed to flood my head. I saw flashes of what I assumed were Tokyo, a school, and a young girl with auburn hair.

"Shirley," I whispered.

The man stared at me shocked; I shook myself and tried to recover.

"Sorry," I said to brush off the incident.

"How did you know my daughter's name?" The man asked in obviously curiosity.

"I'm psychic," I said with a laugh.

The man laughed also, "Well it was a good guess," He smiled as he turned to go.

"You love your daughter don't you?" I said quietly.

The man stopped and looked at me at me for a moment, "Yes, I do,"

I nodded slowly and smiled, "You should go see her, the embrace of a loved one is worth more than all the gold in the world,"

The man smiled, "Perhaps I will,"

With that we parted ways, I made my ways slowly back to the lab. It might seem odd but I didn't feel it was time to leave, not yet anyway.

I arrived to find the lab in chaos; lab technicians ran every which with armed guards running about also. I walked in among them with none of them paying me any mind. I reached my room and took a seat. I hadn't been in the room ten minutes when a tech burst in and said that we were moving. I looked at him curiously.

"Why?"

"We've received reports that the army is headed here; apparently there are rumors of the black knights hiding in the mountains near here,"

I can honestly say that the news sent a shaft of thrill through me, he was near here.

Things were going to happen.


	13. On the Edge of the Battle

Location: Narita Mountains

Time: Unknown (A few days after my last entry)

The earth rumbles.

There are other sounds that I hear right now to be sure. There is the squeal of tanks, the sounds of aircraft, and trembles of knightmares as they walk past the building. I can also hear the hustle and bustle of the scientists as they run to and fro hurrying to pack everything up. I sit here in my room, seeing what writing I can do before someone comes in to pack me up with everything else. Important experimental subject or not I'm only worth about as much as an overly expensive suitcase.

I sit and listen, I can hear it again there is a deep rumble in the earth, yet it is more than a rumble, it is a literal shaking a heavy and pervasive roar fills my ears. I look up as a scientist bursts in.

"Hurry, we have to leave now," He said, fear evident in his face.

Perhaps it had something to do with the experiment but I feel extremely detached from the current situation, as if I was watching a movie.

"What's happening?" I asked, my voice a quiet calm.

"A landslide has occurred, its approaching the town, we need to hurry and leave or risk being swept away,"

I nodded and got up and followed the scientist.

After several minutes I left the building and looked up into the bright sun, I squinted my eyes and looked around; a guard gave me a shove and pushed into a waiting truck. I obediently took my seat.

As the convoy made its way out of the city I stared out the small window at the Narita Mountains, from here I could see the face of the mountain and the large slough down the middle of it where the landslide had occurred, I noted that it had cut the Brittanian lines in two.

"Definitely not natural," I said quietly.

I smiled slightly, Zero, he was here, it had to be him, he was making another miracle victory for the elevens.

Suddenly the convoy stopped. I tried but couldn't see why, after a few minutes we started moving again away from Narita and back toward Tokyo.

"There and back again," I muttered.

I looked back at the mountains as we moved away.

"Don't die Zero, live, cling to life and do more miracles, and one day, we'll meet, face to face,"


	14. Let Us Begin Again

-Excerpt from Private Report written by Doctor Gregory Muller

Date: August 23, 2017

Subject: General Situation Report (Latest medical information on Subject 4479 included)

Despite the unexpected evacuation that the battle of Narita has caused the other scientists and myself, we have been able to set ourselves up well enough. It is good being back in the Brittanian District of Tokyo again. The facilities here have proven more than adequate for the needs of other scientists. As for me myself, I now find myself to have the time needed to more closely explore the effects of Subject 4479's exposure to the Code. There was a very interesting incident a few days before the battle that I had been unable till now to document. Subject 4479 apparently was able to leave the building without being noticed, and then returned a few hours later, once again with no one noticing. I would normally be highly doubtful of this and would suspect that he had bribed or threatened a guard, though if that is the case; it makes me wonder why he would return at all. In this regard his current state of mind makes questioning easier. For the last week or so, a state of apathy or uncaring has seemed to settle over him. This if nothing has made him placid and very easy to communicate and question. Upon my asking him where he went that he replied as follows:

-Separate page of transcript attached here via paperclip

"Where did you go, Subject 4479?"

"Why do you call me that, you know my name is *words are blacked out*"

"That was your name before you came here Subject 4479, here you have no name, only your designated number,"

"It is a very interesting thing to think that a man's being can change merely by his surroundings, don't you think Doctor?"

"Perhaps, but that isn't the question before us,"

"Isn't it?"

"No, it is not, where did you go back Narita?"

"Out, I met a man buying a gift for his daughter; I gave him some advice,"

"Did you know the man?"

"No, yet it was also yes, I feel as if I have known him my whole life,"

"Do you feel that way about anyone else?"

"Yes, many of the scientists here including yourself doctor, you should be careful or they might…"

-Paper is torn here-

-Next Page-

-Report from Doctor Muller-

The subject has either grown very astute in his observations in the last weeks or is developing some sort psychic insight into the people around him. This is an unknown and not before observed anomaly of the code.

More experimentation will be needed.


	15. Further Study

Aug 30 2017

People, humans, I once thought I knew what they were, but now I do not know for sure anymore. I still don't fully understand what has happened to me due to their experiments. I feel connected to people in a way I never had before, just by looking and talking to them I begin to understand them. It is fascinating to speak for only a few minutes and in that time I feel that I've known the person for at least a year. I will admit if only to these private records that I have used this skill to gain a few small luxuries. Perhaps using this skill I will be able to free myself in time I think, though for now I will wait and let them learn more about it and in turn teach me more about it.

* * *

-Excerpt from Private Report written by Doctor Gregory Muller

Date: August 30, 2017

Subject: General Situation Report

It is truly fascinating, neither of known users of the code have shown any remotely like this skills demonstrated by the Subject.

It appears that he able to subconsciously tap into the world of C to connect with the people around him. I remain unsure how to classify his ability, it doesn't appear to be telepathic as he showed no ability to communicate soundlessly nor read the minds of those around him and while he does appear to be able to influence people's perceptions (as evidenced with his escape at the Narita Mountain Facility) However we have yet to see this ability again so rating it strength is difficult.

The one aspect of his power I have been able to study I've come to call Sympathy, by conversing or even just being in close range with other people the Subject is to find the proper words and or actions to get people to openly converse with him. Language does not seem to be a huge barrier, in tests where we had someone who spoke a separate language from him, he was able to gain a level of kinship and at the end of the hour the two were teaching each other their respective languages. The uses of such a skill can hardly be understated. I am planning on putting a request in to have him moved to the Geass Directorate. I hope to be able to do further study with the experts there. In the end I can say one thing with any certainty at this time. This man is not code user or geass user, he has become something completely different from either.

Note: The side project is progressing smoothly. He should be conscious again soon.


End file.
